FanFiction Civil War
by Tomahawk41
Summary: Change can be either good or bad. When the New-Generation Registration Act emerges, the fictional community can't seem to see change the same way. Debates lead to anger...anger leads to war...war leads to suffering. How will it all end?
1. Prologue: In the Beginning

**"We're never gonna win the world,**

**We're never gonna stop the war,**

**We're never gonna beat this**

**If Belief is what we're fighting for."**

_**~John Mayer**_

* * *

**Prologue: In the Beginning...**

The air was thick with tension as Mickey Mouse and Bugs Bunny traded blows with one another in a rundown area of Toon Town. Bugs, garbed in a black kevlar vest with a belt of carrots around his shoulder, swung his mighty Comedi-Tech Mallet down on Mickey, who was dressed in red battle armor and armed with a golden Keyblade that blocked the mallet. Mickey forced the rabbit off of him and fired a quick volley of white magic orbs, forcing Bugs to whip out a "Plot Hole" and retreat, the hole closing immediately afterward. Flabbergasted, Mickey raced to where the hole was and looked around for Bugs. What he didn't forsee was Bugs rising from another hole behind the mouse, lighting a stick of dynamite and tying it to his tail. Mickey turned and saw the dynamite on his person and tried to get it off...only to have it explode in his face. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Mickey lunged at Bugs again.

_I know what you're thinking. It was destined to happen._

Bugs traded out his Comedi-Tech Mallet for a large mini-gun that shot out rounds of thin, carrotlike arrows, forcing Mickey to retreat.

_These two have always been rivals, arguing over who was the better toon. Debating who the top dog of the animated world truly was. And someday, they were going to throw down to settle the score once and for all. I'm sure that's what you always thought, right?_

Jumping onto a high ledge, Mickey's Keyblade radiated with electricity as he leapt down and drove it into the ground, sending shocks along the ground and catching Bugs.

_Yes...it WAS bound to happen. But not like this._

Shaking off the soot, Bugs cracked his knuckles and brought out the Comedi-Tech Mallet again; this time, he held it like a flamethrower, as a long stream of fire billowed from its end. Mickey flicked his wrist once, and brought up a shield that deflected the flames.

_Ever since the day they first met, it's been nothing but a long, ongoing argument over who was top dog of the animated universe. It's always been like this; like a plumber and a hedgehog, they've been at it for years. But their story ran far deeper._

When the flames subsided, Mickey brought the shield down, and slung a fireball at Bugs, who jumped out of the way.

_There WAS a time when it looked like it was all going to come to an end; a time when they were only going to be considered friendly rivals, stepping into the ring of honor to cross fists every now and again for show._

Bugs snapped his fingers and donned a Bruce Lee-style outfit, striking a pose and giving Mickey the classic "Bring it On" gesture. Taking it as a challenge, Mickey pointed his palm at Bugs and unleashed a volley of icicles that Bugs deflected wielding nunchuks at high speeds.

_...That was then. But this...this is now._

Realizing his attempts were futile, Mickey stopped, and simply came at Bugs again, crossing their weapons.

_So now you may be wondering how this happened. How did a fading rivalry like this reignite so quickly, and so passionately? Why are these two so hell-bent on killing one another when all they've ever done was joke about each other?_

Knowing that they were at their limits, Mickey and Bugs readied their weapons for one final blow. They both lunged forward as time seemed to slow down, their eyes burning with hate, and their muscles tenser than they've ever been.

_Well...this isn't the best time to tell that story. To truly know a good story...one must go back...to the beginning._

* * *

_Several Weeks Earlier..._

* * *

In a dark room, lit by only a single overhead lamp, the heads of animation crowded around a table. A sort of ominousness was about, a singular feeling telling them that something terrible was afoot. They waited with baited anticipation, conversing with one another in low, hushed tones. Then, a man with slicked black hair and a thin mustache wearing a black buisness suit and black-rimmed glasses walked in next to a large board with a pointer. A small, brass nametag read Walter Avery-Jones, indicating the man's identity. A solemn look was upon his face as he faced the crowd, who's attention was now drawn to him.

"Gentlemen," Mr. Avery-Jones began in a stern, serious tone. "I wish I could say there's good news and bad news, as I usually do. But unfortunately, I come to you today bearing only bad news. And this may be the worse news we have come to hear since the Writer's Strike of 2007 threatened to put us out of business."

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Walter, we understand that the news is bad," Mr. Lee snapped. "Just tell us what it is, already!"

Mr. Avery-Jones sighed. "Very well," he said before taking the cover off of a board with a graph and taking up a pointer. "As you can see, our greatest time was two decades ago, when everything was flourishing beautifully. Sales in merchandise were up, viewer counts were high, and the interest in most everything was, as some people would put it, red hot. With such a robust boost in entertainment, we thought that the momentum would carry over into the new millenium. It did...but it only lasted for half a decade." Mr. Avery-Jones took his pointer and pointed at a part of the graph that indicated the numbers in 2004. "Starting after this year, while sales were high, views and interest started to head south. We all may have figured that it would pick back up...but..." The pointer trailed down the chart, passing over the totals of 2005, 2006, 2007, and so on. "It seems as though we have reached an all-time low with our crowds. This is NOT what we had anticipated, gentlemen."

The employees mumbled to themselves, trying to make head or tails of what was just explained to them.

"This wouldn't be happening if Justice League hadn't ended," Mr. Timm spoke up.

"Pah, at least your series had a concrete ending to it," Mr. Whedon snorted. "Firefly never GOT that ending!"

"Hey, your show at least got a movie attatched to it," Mr. Groening said to Mr. Whedon. "Be thankful for THAT."

"Yeah, but there's a few key differences," Mr. Whedon glared. "YOUR show not only has a movie, but 20 seasons under its belt, and half of them aren't even that good! MY show didn't even get through season 1! So you don't have any room to say ANYTHING!"

"Now, hold on, boys," Mr. Spielberg stood up and motioned with his hands for everyone to calm down. "Let's not go pointing any fingers at anyone. The way I see it, ALL of us must be doing something wrong here, it's not any one director or writer that's at fault here. We just need to listen to what people are saying they don't like, and try to fix the problem; simple as that."

"Mr. Spielberg has a point," Mr. Avery-Jones nodded. "All of us are somehow responsible for this decline, and we must figure a way to bring the numbers back up again."

"Perhaps video games will help," Mr. Dini chimed in. "The most recent Batman game sold like hotcakes when it first came out, and it's being heralded as one of the greatest comic book superhero movies of all time."

"True, but there is a problem," Mr. Avery-Jones said calmly, flipping a page and showing a new graph. "While gaming had perhaps its greatest year not three years ago, the quality of games these days has also gone into a bit of a decline. Several games that have massive amounts of so-called hype generated behind them wind up being commercial failures. Sonic Unleashed, Banjo-Kazooie: Nuts & Bolts, and need I mention Star Wars: The Force Unleashed, Mr. Lucas?"

Lucas shrunk in his chair in embarrassment.

"At least Disgaea still delivers, Dood!" a penguin-like creature called a Prinny (wearing a sign that read "Representative of Nippon Ichi Software Inc.") spoke up.

"With graphics like yours?" Mr. Groening chortled. "I'm surprised the series has gotten as far as it did!"

"Please, let's not get into arguments about subjects like that," said Mr. Miyamoto, taking a cue from Mr. Spielberg. "Like the television situation, we are all at fault somehow. There is no point in pointing fingers at one person."

"Regardless of WHO is in dire need," Mr. Avery-Jones continued on, undaunted. "We need a solution to remedy this problem, immediately. Any ideas?"

"I believe **I** have the answer to your problems," a low, chilling voice filled the room. Everyone looked around and saw a man, dressed in a black cloak and slouch hat, approach them from the shadows. "Gentlemen...I have caught wind of your little predicament, and I think I may have the solution to your problem."

"You don't say?" Mr Avery-Jones raised an eyebrow. "Explain, my dear sir."

"Please, call me Master D," the figure chuckled lightly, bowing slightly. "And I would be more than happy to explain my plan to you. Be warned, though. It may cause some...debate...among the denizens..."

"Whatever it takes, sir," Mr. Avery-Jones nodded.

Nobody could tell that the figure was smiling from behind the cloak.

* * *

**End of Prologue**

* * *

_**OneWorld Entertainment Proudly Presents...**_

_**FanFiction Civil War**_


	2. I: I Heard the News Today

**Chapter 1: I Heard the News Today, Oh Boy...**

It was a bright and cheerful sunny day as Mickey Mouse piloted a steamboat down river, happily whistling "Turkey in the Straw" as he went. Mickey had been an old hand at doing this sort of thing; he had done it for years upon years, and it was the first job he had ever had. It seemed like nothing could go wrong today.

At least not until something poked its head out of one of the barrels. It turned out to be Bugs Bunny, rising from the barrel with a carrot in his hand. He lazily climbed out of the barrel and sauntered up to Mickey, taking a bite out of the carrot as he did so.

"Ehh...what's up, Doc?" he asked plainly in a Flatbush accent.

"Oh, just pilotin' this boat down ri-" Mickey was explaining before he realized something; this rabbit wasn't there before. He whipped his head around and looked to see Bugs staring at him. Jumping back, Mickey sputtered, "Hey! Wh-who're you?"

"Just yer averege stowaway," Bugs delicately placed a finger on the steering wheel. "Thought I'd go on a nice little cruise, you know? 'Course, it COULD use a little pizazz..." Bugs flipped his finger down and spun the steering wheel. He spun it so hard, in fact, that it came off its axis and fell to the ground with a thud. Bugs cringed as the wheel rolled a ways away from him and fell flat on the deck. "Oooh..."

"Cut! CUT!"

Mickey hopped up from the floor as the duo walked off the set of one of their newest cartoons. Yes, it turns out that they were making a new batch of shorts together, along with their respective friends. "Not bad-I say-not bad at all, fellas!" Foghorn Leghorn said from atop his seat at the camera.

"H'aww, thanks, Foggy!" Mickey chuckled as he waved.

The two toons then ran into Belle, who was wearing a white t-shirt, a blue vest with gold trim, blue pants, a visor with a red rose on the front, and brown slipon shoes. She held a clipboard with all sorts of notes on it.

"Ehh, so how'd we do, Beauty?" Bugs asked.

"Oh, you boys were wonderful!" Belle bubbled with a smile. "Just, for the sake of the equipment, Bugs, please try to be more careful. Wile E. can't fix everything, you know."

"Sure, no problem," Bugs shrugged casually. He stood on the balls of his feet and whispered in Belle's ear, "Between you an' me, that coyote can't even fix his luck when it comes to lunch."

Belle giggled. "You're such a card," she said in between laughs.

"So, what'cha want us to do next, Belle?" Mickey asked.

"Hmm..." Belle checked her clipboard, flipping through a few of the pages. "You boys don't need to shoot any more scenes for a few hours. It's Donald and Daffy's turn now."

"Good luck with that," Mickey quipped. "The last time those two starred together, it was a disaster!"

"But it was a FUNNY disaster," Bugs added with a munch of his carrot.

"Well, we'll try not to have any more of that this time," Belle nodded. Then, she turned around and called, "Kermit!"

A moment later, a green frog with a darker green collar and spindly arms and legs jogged up to the trio. "Hi-ho, Belle!" Kermit the Frog greeted. "What'cha need?"

"Donald and Daffy Duck's scene shoot is next," Belle instructed. "Do you have their scripts ready?"

"Oh, the scripts? Um..." Kermit rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Well, there's a funny story about that, really..."

"Oh?" Belle raised an eyebrow.

"Y-y'see we HAD the scripts ready," Kermit explained timidly. "But, um, while we were highlighting the boys' lines, um...Taz and Animal...sorta ate 'em."

The next thing the group heard were the sounds of paper ripping and lips smacking from across the room. "Mmm, yummy vowels," came a deep, gravelly voice in between chomps.

"GRA-MMER! GRA-MMER!" a higher, more manic voice chanted.

"Oh, dear," Belle sighed. "They're not going to like this..."

"Don't worry, Belle, we can loan 'em our scripts for this scene!" Bugs and Mickey handed Belle their scripts. "Just, you know, keep 'em away from the livin' garbage disposals."

"You boys are lifesavers," Belle smiled. "Thank you so much!"

"No trouble!" Mickey smiled as he and Bugs made their way to the snack table.

* * *

Mickey poured himself a cup of coffee as Bugs eyed his options at the table. His eyes fell on a heaping platter of beingets being tended to by an African-American woman named Tiana.

"Not goin' for your usual carrots, Bugs?" Mickey asked.

"Thought I'd try somethin' different for a change," Bugs grinned. He turned to Tiana and said, "Ehh, one to start, please."

"There y'are, Mr. Bunny," Tiana placed a midsized beinget on a plate and handed it over to Bugs. The rabbit took it between his thumb and two fingers, and took a bite out of it.

"Mmm...mm-hmm...hmmm..." Bugs swallowed in satisfaction. "Not too shabby, Ms. Tiana! I could work this into my regular diet! Two thumbs up!"

"You mean it?" Tiana beamed. "Oh, thank you kindly, Mr. Bunny!"

"Please, call me Bugs," Bugs chuckled. "I don't mind."

"I'm sorry," Tiana chuckled in embarrassment. "It's just, it feels wonderful to have one of the greatest animated stars compliment my cooking..."

"H'aww, we understand," Mickey chuckled as Tiana handed him a beinget as well. "By the way, great work on your first movie!"

"Yeah, you really pulled it outta the hat," Bugs nodded. "And that's weird comin' from a Warner Bros. mascot like me."

"Oh, stop, y'all are makin' me blush," Tiana giggled.

"Well, we better let'cha get back to work," Bugs said as he and Mickey finished their beingets. "Thanks for the snacks, Tiana!"

"Don't mention it, boys!" Tiana waved as the two wandered off. "And good luck!"

Bugs grabbed a glass of water from the table as he and Mickey walked together. "Boy, you guys sure have come a long way since I worked with ya last in Roger Rabbit," Bugs said to Mickey.

"Welp, it hasn't exactly been easy," Mickey said, "But we've been getting it together in the past. Tiana's been swell in helping us, with her new movie and all."

"I don't blame ya," Bugs nodded. "Hard to believe we used to be rivals, huh?"

"Those were the days," Mickey chuckled as he took a sip from his coffee. "But at least we can say those days are history now."

"Yep, it's the beginnin' of a brand new toon era," Bugs smiled. "Mario and Sonic put their rivalry to rest..."

"Sorta."

"Right, sorta. So it's about time we did the same thing. And the way I see it, there's nothin' that'll top it."

"B-b-b-b-b-guys!"

All of a sudden, Porky Pig came racing up to Bugs and Mickey. "Hey, reign it in there, Porkenstein," Bugs said. "Ya look like you had a run-in with a mad butcher!"

"What's goin' on, Porky?" Mickey asked.

"There's a n-n-n-n-press conference goin' on at FanFictoria's capitol in a few minutes," Porky explained. "They're sayin' it's gonna be the biggest change in history! You g-g-g-need to see it, quick!"

Mickey and Bugs looked at each other worridly.

* * *

Meanwhile, out at a darkened Frieling's Coast on the eastern side of the country, a group of authors sat around a roaring campfire, roasting marshmallows and telling each other stories.

"Thanks again for those surf lessons today, Molly," the blonde-haired Taylor smiled as she wrapped herself in a beach blanket.

"Aww, don't mention it, Tay," Molly giggled before softly clutching her sides. "Just don't hold onto me so tight next time, okay?"

"Hey, just be lucky it wasn't me holdin' on to ya," Papa T laughed as he roasted two marshmallows over the fire. "I don't exactly have a soft grip when I'm nervous..."

"I never knew that surfing would be so...invigorating," No Limit said, wringing water out of his trench coat.

"How? Was it the sheer power of the ocean, or nearly being eaten by a shark?" Phantom the Skitty joked.

"Eh, a combination of the two," NL shrugged. "But that shark was flippin' HUGE!"

"I've seen worse, if you ask me," Cap'n Joe shrugged.

Suddenly, something beeped, and Dr. Dude looked at a monitor on his mechanical arm. His eyes widened in shock at what he was seeing. "Uh...guys?" he asked the group. "I think something's going down in the city."

"What is it? A robbery?" Kira asked.

"No, an announcement from the feds," Dr. Dude shook his head. "Hang on, lemme patch it through the radio so we can all hear it." Dr. Dude took a wire from his arm, and hooked it into a nearby radio. Then, with a few button presses, he tuned the radio to the right station.

"Is there anything that arm of yours CAN'T do?" Lunise asked.

"Make a decent milkshake, for one," Dr. Dude joked.

"Shh!" everyone else hissed as a voice spoke on the radio.

"Early this evening, the FanFictorian Government has agreed upon a historic new bill in hopes of reinvigorating entertainment on all fronts; a bill that many say will bring back the spark of the 90's. And now, the head of the country, Mr. Walter Avery-Jones."

"Oooh, boy," Papa T sighed.

* * *

Mr. Avery-Jones stepped up to the pulpit as Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth watched from within the depths of the Batcave. "For too long, several fields have faltered in delivering quality work, year in and year out. Since the beginning of the last decade, ratings have dropped. And now, they have dropped too low for our own good. That is why, I come here today to announce what will hopefully be the start of a new revolution in media entertainment."

"I have a bad feeling about this," Bruce crossed his arms in concern.

"Come now, Master Bruce," Alfred looked to Bruce. "What's the worst that could possibly happen?"

"Hmm..."

* * *

"Earlier this evening, the leaders of this country have agreed on the New Generation Registration Act," Mr. Avery-Jones continued, with the Simpson family watching on from their usual couch. "This act will ensure anyone their rightful place in the spotlight again. That is not to say, however, that getting said spotlight will be easy."

"Homer, what does this mean?" Marge Simpson asked fearfully.

"I dunno, but it doesn't sound good," Homer shook his head.

"I agree," Lisa added. "From the sound of this new bill, we may have to change our show's format to satisfy a more modern audience, thereby risking a drop in quality."

"No, I'm more worried about whether or not they'll hand out free Duff!" Homer said with a raised eyebrow.

Lisa sighed, and looked to her brother, Bart. "Are we the only ones besides Mom that're worried about this new bill?" she asked.

"I dunno, it sounds fine to me," Bart shrugged. "Besides, what's the worst they could do?"

"They could make you a more well-behaved character," Lisa deadpanned.

Bart's eyes widened...then narrowed, as he snarled, "Oh, they are SO dead..."

* * *

Meanwhile, Prince Laharl, Flonne, and Etna watched the press conference unfold themselves from a mystic well. "In order to be successful, we would find in everyone's best interest if they modernized their current routines to suit this era of viewers and gamers alike. This means smarter and wittier jokes, high-definition visuals, radically-different gameplay mechanics, and other embellishments that will appease this new era."

"They better stay away from us, if they know what's good for them!" Laharl roared as he slammed his fist on the side of the well. "Etna, rally the Prinnies! We're gonna need to be ready to blow those chumps sky-high if they even DARE to come this way!"

"Oooh!" Etna squealed with excitement. "A rebellion against higher powers...I LOVE it!"

"But Your Majesty," Flonne said, "Wouldn't we be arrested if we resisted them? We'd be considered wanted criminals!"

"So what?" Laharl snapped. "It's not like we've done it before! Besides, who KNOWS what they'll ask us to change! I could turn out to be a love freak like you!"

"That would be wonderful!" Flonne chirped. "It'd really give you a chance to bring out the good inside your..."

"D'AAAAAHHHH!"

* * *

"Hopefully, when this bill is passed," Mr. Avery-Jones concluded as Bugs, Mickey, and their friends watched on, "The popularity of animation, video gaming, and all-around entertainment will reach is former glory once again. When this bill is passed, no longer will icons be ridiculed, and branded as dying franchises. When this bill is passed, a new revolution will be born, and former stars RE-born! For together, we will come out of the dark, and into the spotlight again!"

The crowds cheered wildly as Mr. Avery-Jones waved to the crowd. Bugs turned off the television sadly. "Well, ain't this a revoltin' development," he sighed.

"I'm tellin' Mr. Grimm you ripped him off," Gonzo joked before Lola Bunny slapped him in the back of his head. "Ow! I was only kidding!"

"Zis is quite ze grave situation," Pepe le Pew gulped. "It could spell ze end for our magnum opus!"

"Maybe, maybe not," Dean McCoppin said, rubbing his chin. "We could still do somethin' about it. Maybe try to repeal the law. What do you think, Bugs?"

Bugs was about to respond, but a ringtone set to the tune of "The Merry-Go-Round Broke Down" rung. Bugs picked up a cellphone and spoke into it. "Ehh, what's up, Doc?" he spoke into the receiver. "...Yeah? ...Uh-huh? ...Oh, really? Uhh...alright, that's...n-no, no, it's okay, I understand. It's fine, really. ...Alright. ...Yeah. So long." Bugs clapped the phone shut.

"Who was that, Bugs?" Tiana asked.

"The people fundin' our project," Bugs sighed sadly. "They're sayin' that we gotta scrap the project."

"Gawrsh...but why?" Goofy Goof asked.

"They're sayin' it's too old-timey for the bill's requirements," Bugs said. "If we don't meet up with their quota, we could be in some major trouble. Sorry, gang, but we have to start all over again."

Everyone in the crowd mumbled in confusion; they had just caught wind of this new law, and now it was threatening to shut down what could be the greatest project to ever grace the media. Nobody knew what to think...until Mickey stepped forward.

"Now hold on just a second, Bugs," Mickey looked Bugs square in the eye. "Does this mean you're gonna give up? Just like that?"

"What else can we do?" Bugs asked. "We don't wanna get in trouble with the law, do we?"

"The Bugs I know wouldn't be worried about gettin' in trouble with the law," Mickey shook his head. "Bugs, there were some big names that opposed the U.S. in your heydey, but did they ever stop you? Nope. You went in and showed 'em what you were made of. And you've done it several times before, too! You did it against Witch Hazel, Mr. Swackhammer and the MonStars, the corporate executives from Acme...time and time again, you've faced impossible odds, and you've always come out on top! So if you can do all that and not get cold feet, why stop now?"

"The boy-I say-the boy's right, boy," Foghorn Leghorn stepped next to Mickey. "This ain't like you at all!"

"Bugs, we've worked on this project for far too long," Pocahontas crouched down to Bugs' level and put a hand on his shoulder. "We can't give up now...YOU can't give up now. I know you want to get this finished...you say you'll listen to the government, when you should really listen to your heart."

"Ask yourself this, Bugs," Mickey added. "Would you really want to become something that you aren't?"

Bugs thought for a moment...but then he smirked. "86 the revisions, crew," he said as he spun a carrot skillfully. "We got a movie to finish."

"That's the spirit, Bugs!" Ariel cheered.

"Si, this is the rabbit we know and love!" Speedy Gonzales grinned.

Bugs took up his cellphone again as he started dialing a number. Everyone else left the room, but Mickey stayed behind and winked at Bugs with a reassuring smile. Bugs grinned right back as the line picked up.

"Yeah, Walt?" Bugs spoke. "Before you go an' pass that new act of yours, we wanna show ya somethin' that may change your mind..."

_**End of Chapter 1**_


	3. II: A Roll of the Dice

**Chapter 2: A Roll of the Dice**

"Uh-huh...almost got it...aaand...there!" Mickey smiled as he finished cropping the last clip he had on his Ceilings Movie Maker. He moved his mouse...the OTHER mouse...over the "Save" button, and clicked once. With a few keystrokes, he typed "Mickey and Bugs Together at Last" into the text bar and hit save. He waited, and saw that it was going to take a while for the movie to save before he could burn it, along with several other shorts that were filmed, onto a DVD...fifteen minutes, to be precise.

"H'aww, shucks," he sighed. "Guess that's what I get for savin' all the other shorts first. Oh, well! May as well start on that note Bugs told me to write up. Gosh...this is pretty big, even for me."

So Mickey pulled up a blank word document, and eyeballing a list of notes he had compiled, began to write...

* * *

_A memo to a higher office; an open letter to the powers that be..._

_While I do apologize for the long greeting, I want to be as straightforward as possible with you. I, along with several of my associates from both Disney AND Warner Bros., believe that this new law you are contemplating, the "New Generation Registration Act," is unnecessary. It is considered as such on the grounds that we, as toons (and to an extent, video game heroes), believe that our routines are in no need of a refurbishing. Many of us have been delighting crowds as far back as the early 1930s, and our legacies have served as an inspiration for many newcomers. Granted, not all of them have suceeded in winning the crowds over (the Total Drama series being a perfect example), but at the very least, they tried to emulate us veterans. We would rather be remembered as we have been the past several decades as opposed to something we are not. It's my firm belief that our original creators wouldn't want us to be anything but ourselves._

_To that end, what you have in your posession right now is a DVD of freshly-filmed shorts starring myself and my friends alongside the cast of my longtime rival, Bugs Bunny, and his many friends. Much like Mario and Sonic's Olympic outings in Beijing and Vancouver, this will show that rivalries can be peacefully put to rest. Additionally, it will prove that we veteran toons can still capture the hearts of many, both young and old alike, even in this modern era. It captures the spirits of our past perfectly, and is guarenteed to put smiles on the faces of not only the people that grew up with us, but their children, and maybe their children's children, as well. Consider this our pitch to repeal this act; I, as well as my many friends, hope that you will take our side of this argument into consideration._

_Yours,_

_Mickey W. Mouse_

* * *

As Mickey finished the last of the note, a 'ding' sounded from his speakers, notifying him that the DVD was ready. The tower unit ejected the disc as Mickey removed the disc and placed it inside a jewel case. Then, turning his attention back to the document, he hit the 'Print' button, and in a matter of seconds, the printer ejected the document on a fresh sheet of paper.

"There, that should do it," Mickey said as he folded the note up and placed it on top of the jewel case. He took a padded envelope, and stuck both contents inside. "Now, what was it that Bugs wanted me to do? Hmm..." Mickey rubbed his chin in thought...and snapped his fingers in realization. "Oh! That's right!" Hopping out of his chair and sealing the envelope, he made his way for the door, quickly jotting down, 'To the Heads of FanFictorian Government' as he went. Stepping out to his front stoop, he took out what looked like a bicycle horn and squeezed it twice, emitting a loud,

*MEEP-MEEP!*

Barely a second had gone by, and already, something appeared in front of Mickey. It was an abnormally-tall roadrunner with murky blue feathers, and purple on its wings and head. He carried a satchel at his side.

"Gee, Bugs was right about you, Road Runner," Mickey laughed. "You ARE quick to respond!" Mickey quickly composed himself as he said, "Alrighty, now, what I need you to do is take this to the Capitol Building of FanFictoria. You don't need to tell 'em where it's going..."

Road Runner gave Mickey a sardonic look as he held up a sign saying, "I don't speak at all, remember?"

"...Oh, right, right," Mickey chuckled in embarrassment. "A-anyway, just give 'em the package, and then you can go, understand?"

Road Runner nodded his head once as he put the package in his satchel. Then, he held out one wing and wiggled the tip a few times.

"Huh?" Mickey looked confused for a moment. Road Runner licked his lips (do Road Runners even HAVE lips?) in anticipation, giving Mickey a clue. "Ohoho, okay, I see what'cha want!" Mickey laughed before running back inside. He came out with a box of bird seed, and poured it in a small pile in front of the Road Runner. Hungrily, the Road Runner gobbled up the bird seed, and nodded to Mickey in thanks.

"No problem, Road Runner," Mickey nodded. "Now get a move-on before it gets too dark!"

"Meep-meep!" Road Runner hopped into the air and flexed his feet, and sped off into the sunset. Mickey watched him race off into the great unknown. With an unsure look on his face, he couldn't help but whisper,

"Good luck..."

* * *

The sun had sunk completely into the horizon as Road Runner sped through a desert highway, the central city of FanFictoria in his sights. From high up, his oldest enemy, Wile E. Coyote, sat on a rock and licked his chops hungrily. He was about to try and chase him, but he noticed the bag he was carrying, and immediately stopped. "It's for the better," he thought to himself.

* * *

Soon, Road Runner made it to Central City. He came up on the Capitol Building, and was stopped at a gate outside; the booth being there, obviously, to keep out unwanted intruders. Road Runner stopped right in front of the gate almost immediately. He looked to the left, and then to the right. And on his right was a man in a navy jumpsuit (with a nametag tha read 'Janitor' on the chest) reading through a "Frisky" magazine. The Janitor looked up from his reading at the Road Runner.

"Sorry, Robin," Janitor said. "No visitors after 10 on weeknights. If you come back on Friday, we're open until midnight!"

Road Runner dug into his satchel, pulled out Mickey's package, and handed it to Janitor. Janitor himself inspected the package thoroughly, noting the three circles above the address. "Ahh, I see what you're doing now. Okay, I'll make sure the big wigs get this one. Take care, R-Squared...and watch out for that coyote, will ya?"

With a nod, Road Runner sped off again. Then, Janitor stepped out of his booth and made his way to the building.

* * *

Inside, Janitor rapped on Walter Avery-Jones' door. "Come in," came a different voice.

Janitor opened the door, and was surprised to find...

"Master D?" he asked in surprise. "Where's Mr. Avery-Jones?"

"Oh, he's out at the Anime Peninsula," Master D said. "He's trying to work out a peace treaty between the Naruto and One Piece fans."

"Lemme guess...that Green Goblin riled everyone up again?" Janitor asked despondently.

"Indeed," Master D nodded grimly.

"Gah, they never learn," Janitor shook his head. "Anyway! This was intended for Walt, but I figured I'd leave it in your hands. Make sure he sees this, alright?"

Master D took the package and thoroughly inspected it. "I will see to it that he views this," he said. "Thank you, Janitor."

"No problem," Janitor winked before walking out the door.

Master D opened the package and immediately went to the note, slowly reading it over...

The next morning, Mickey had finally finished making himself breakfast, and was about to dig in. And all of a sudden, the phone rang. Curious, Mickey picked up the phone, and spoke into it.

* * *

"Hello? ...Yes? ...Oh, oh, yeah, did you...oh...I see...huh...a-alright, I understand. Okay...thank you."

Mickey hung up, his face riddled with fear. He was so stricken with fear, all he could say was...

"No..."

* * *

_**End of Chapter 2**_


End file.
